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MR. LORING'S AUNTS 



A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS 



BY 

HELEN P. GLOYD 



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MR. LORING'S 

AUNTS 



A COMEDY IN THREE ACTS 



By HELEN P. GLOYD 

Autlior of ' * Mary Ann ' ' 



Copyright, 19 17, by 
Fitzgerald Publishing Corporation 



Fitzgerald Publishing Corporation 

successor to 

Dick & Fitzgerald 

18 Vesey Street New York City 



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9aD 47777 

SEP il mi 

TMPg2-009259 



MR. LORING'S AUNTS 



CHARACTERS. 

Mrs. Loring. 

Lucy Manning Her sister 

?,i^^^^ I Her maids 

Marie ^ 

Eleanor Her daughter 

Miss Maria 



,, . . 3Ir. Loring^s aunts 

Miss Ann ^ ^ 

Mrs. Jones Who keeps the Old Hill Sanitarium 

Miss Lane A71 attendant 

Miss Flite | j^^^^f^^ ,^ ^^ 

Miss Lite ^ 

Lizzie An errand girl 

Jane Another attendant 

Inmates, ad lib. 

Time. — The present. Locality. — Plainfield. 
Time of Playing. — 1^4 hours. 

SYNOPSIS. 

Mrs. Loring sends her sister to the station to meet Mr. 
Loring 's Aunts, whom she expects on the two-o'clock 
train, while Mrs. Jones sends Jane to meet Miss Elite 
and Miss Lite, whom she expects on the three-o'clock 
train. For reasons of her own Lucy arrives at the sta- 
tion at three 'clock, while Jane gets there at two. Each 
unknowingly takes the wrong party, which leads to a 
general mix-up, finally straightened out by Eleanor and 
Lizzie, Avith such excellent results that Mrs. Loring is 
forgiven bj^ the aunts, and peace is finally declared be- 
tween the quarrelsome maids, Biddy" and Marie. 

3 



COSTUMES. 

Mrs. Loring. — Afternoon gown. 
Lucy Manning. — Light summer dress, hat and wraps. 
Biddy. — Wrapper and large kitchen apron. 
Marie. — French maid's costume, cap and apron. 
Eleanor. — Light summer dress, hat and wraps. 

Miss An^n^^ ^ Elderly ladies, dressed rather quietly. 
Mrs. Jones. — Neat house dress. 

Miss Elite I Elderly ladies, dressed rather gay. 
Miss Lite ) *' ' ^ -^ 



INCIDENTAL PROPERTIES. 

Work bags containing fancy work for Mrs. Loring, 
Mrs. Jones and the Inmates at the Sanitarium. Five- 
dollar bill for ]\liss Ann. Fur coat and muff for Miss 
Lite. Duster for Marie. 



STAGE DIRECTIONS. 

As seen by a perfoiTiier on the stage facing the audi- 
ence, R. means right hand; L., left hand; c, center of 
stage; d.r., door at right; d.l., door at left. Up means 
to^vard back of stage ; down, toward footlights. 



MR. LORING^S AUNTS 



ACT I. 



Scene. — Sitting-room in Mrs. Loring's home. After- 
noon. Door at r. leading to liall. Door at l. leading 
to kitclien. Window up l. Table down r., cliairs r. 
and L. of table. Bell on table. Table ivitli telephone 
DOWN L. Sofa UP c. Other furniture as desired; 
room represents an untidy appearance. 

Mrs. Loring {off stage r.) Good-bye, John. Are you 
sure you have your rubbers? And your umbrella? 
Don't forget to match that silk, will you, dear? I really 
do need it. (Pause) On the two-o'clock train? (Pause) 
Why, of course, I'll do the best I can for them. (EN- 
TERS D.R., carrying ivork-bag) Mercy, it's a greater 
task to get John started for the city than it would be for 
me to get ready to go to Europe. His rubbers — which are 
never to be found, and I don't believe he wants to find 
them — his umbrella, which he is sure to leave on the 
train — his valise, which always has to be unpacked and 
repacked a half-dozen times, are all so manj^ things for 
me to be responsible for. (Sits and takes out fancy- 
work) Poor John, he was so worried for fear I'd do 
something to offend those aunts of his — and how he did 
warn me not to let anything happen to them — as if any- 
thing could! Well, I'll do the best I can for them. 
(Looks around room) But just look at this room! Was 
there ever such disorder as prevails in this house? If 
those two servants of mine could only be induced to 

5 



6 Mr. Loring's Aunts 

spend half the time in working that they do in quar- 
relling, they might get something done once in a while. 
{Picks up thread from floor) They haven't even swept'. 
They know I'm afraid to say anything to them for fear 
they'll leave, so they follow their own sweet wills, and 
the Kilkenny cats would be a peace conference comx)ared 
to them. 

ENTER D.R. — Lucy and Eleanor, wearing summer 

wraps. 

Mrs. L. Why, hello, girls. Where have you been all 
morning ? 

Lucy. Can't you guess, Edith? 

Mrs. L. I can't imagine. Tell me, Lucy. 

Lucy. I kncAv you'd never guess in the world. Visit- 
ing your next-door neighbors. 

Mrs. L. My next-door neighbors! Really, Lucy, I 
didn't know we had any. 

Lucy. Oh, yes, indeed v/e have. You know that big 
building up the hill, or are you so cumbered with house- 
hold cares you haven't even seen it? 

Mrs. L. Up the hill ? Oh, yes, I remember now. The 
Sanitarium ? 

Lucy. Yes, Old Hill Sanitarium they call it. It's all 
old ladies over there and all a trifle crazy. They are too 
funny for Avords, and we laughed all the time we v/ere 
there. Really, Edith, you never saw anything so comical 
in all your life. Mrs. Jones, she's the matron, became 
quite huffy at us for laughing at them. She Avouidn't 
know a joke if she bumped into one; stiff est old thing 
you ever saw. You may be sure she didn't ask us to 
come again, did she, Eleanor? (Eleanor laucjlis and 
shakes head) 

Mrs. L. I hope you didn't hurt her feelings, Lucy. 
You really should be more careful. 

Lucy. I'm afraid we did, but honestly, Edith, we just 
couldn't help it. 

{To Eleanor) Come on, chick-a-biddy ; we'll take 
our thin^^s off. 



Mr. Loring's Aunts 7 

Mks. L. Wait a minute, Eleanor dear, let mother help 
you with your coat. Now, you take Aunt Lucy's wraps 
and hang them up, please. Mother wants to talk to 
Aunt Lucy. [EXIT Eleanor d.r. 

Lucy {sitting l. of table) . What 's up now f 

Mrs. L. Nothing much, except that we're going to 
have some company and 

Lucy. Nothing much! Edith, company! You can't 
mean it. 

Mrs. L. Indeed! Is it such a crime to have com- 
pany that 

Lucy. Edith, company! Heavens and earth, what 
will Biddy say? The very word company in this house 
is like a match in a gunpowder factory — and take it 
from me, I'd prefer the factory. Go on, I'm prepared 
for the worst. 

Mrs. L. I don't know but you are right about Biddy. 
I haven't dared tell lier yet. 

Lucy. Now, Edith, take my advice. Biddy is a good 
cook and we don't v/ant to lose her. It's bad enough for 
you and John to live way out here without having any- 
thing happen to rile Biddy— she's my own source of con- 
solation in exile. Tell me, Edith, what do you want to 
have company for ? 

Mrs. L. I don't want to have company, but you see, 
Lucy, two old aunts of Mr. Loring's, very wealthy, 

Lucy 

Lucy. And liable to make wills. I thnik I m begin- 
ning to see. Go on. 

Mrs. L. Lucy! Well, John wants us to be nice to 
them, they being old. 

Lucy. And ricli. 

Mrs. L. Lucy ! Well, what I was trying to say was 
that you would be doing me quite a favor if you would 
drive down and meet them. They are coming on the 
two-o'clock train. 

Lucy. How shall I know them when I see them 1 I 
don't intend to kidnap the first pair of old ladies I see. 



8 Mr. Loring's Aunts 

Mrs. L. John's brother, Dr. Loriiig, is coming with 
them as far as the station. We've written him that 
you'll be there, so he will be watching for you. Be sure 
you are on time. John says 

Lucy. But he doesn't know me, nor I him. 

Mrs. L. You are to wear a white carnation. It isn't 
likely that you Avill have any trouble identifying each 
other. Elderly ladies with young doctors escorting them 
don't come into the station very 

Lucy. Oh, I won 't have any difficulty, of course, and 
I'll be glad to go. I'll get ready at once, so as to be in 
plenty of time to meet aunties. And may be they'll re- 
member me in their wills, too. 

Mrs. L. Do. And be very careful, Lucy, not to offend 
them. John says their feelings are very easily hurt. 

Lucy. You can rely on me. I '11 be a perfect mother 
to them. 

Mrs. L. Now I '11 have to break the news to the serv- 
ants. (Rings hell) 

Lucy. I don't envy you your job any. I should 
rather do it from the safe depths of a cvclone cellar. 

[EXIT D.R. 
ENTER Marie d.l. 

Marie. You ring, ]\ la da me? 

Mrs. L. {aside). I must confess my courage is failing 
me. I wish John were here. (Aloud) Yes, I did ring 
— er — IMarie. 

Marie. Oui, T\Iadame. 

Mrs. L. M-m (Aside) How shall I begin? Oh, 

if John were only here. (Alo^id) This room doesn't look 
very tidy 

Marie. Veil, Madame, vat vould you? All ze day I 
try vork, vork, voi'k; all ze day I try make zc sings 
(Waves liands) vat you call nice. Oui, zat is ze vord, 
nice. I must rememlier zat vord, he will be useful — but 
Madame (Slinigs slioidders) zat-zat — vat shall I say in ze 
English r\\v^: he remain politea, madame knows — all ze 



Mr. Loring's Aunts 9 

day she say, zat Biddy zat she is ze boss — all ze day she 
say, she, now I do not zat vord remember — oh, oui, I 
have heem, she \vill change ze map of my face — I cannot 
bear it, mo. Ze map of my face, he is mine and she 

shall not cliange lieem. Madame, she 

Mrs. L. That will do, Marie. What I wished to say 
is this, I am going to have company this afternoon and 
I 'd like you to have the blue and the pink rooms put in 
order. Do you understand? 

Marie {slowly). Oui, madame, oh, oui, madame, I 
understand me. Always more vork for me. But, 
Madame, I pray zat zey may not be fed by zat Biddy zat 
try cook in ze kitchen. Zg food eet ees a horror ! I am 
starve because I cannot eet heem, and ze company zey 
could not eet heem, too. And now ze company! She 
ees— what you call? Last straw? Oui, ze last straw. 
Madame, eet break my heart to tell you, but at ze end 
of ze month— I go. ^ 

Mrs. L. Oh, no, you won't. Mane; but well talk 
that over later. Please get the rooms ready at once and 
send Biddy here. 

Marie. Oui, Madame. 

Mrs. L. Or wait a minute, 111 go with you myself 

and show vou what I want done. I am very anxious that 

the rooms* be in perfect order because the ladies are very 

particular. (ENTER Lucy d.r.) What, not gone yet? 

Lucy. I'm going at once, Edith. 

Mrs L. Verv well, please hurry, Lucy, it is late. 

[EXIT Marie and Mrs. Loring d.r. 
Lucy Mercy, I didn't know it was so late. But I 
did want to get that letter off to Bob. Poor boy, how 
lonesome he must be all alone in the city— I wish I were 
there or he here. How stupid of Aunt Jane to think 
that by sending me down here I vrould forget him. For- 
get him, indeed ! I only think of him the more. {Rings 
hell) Well, I shall be twenty-one in a few months and 

then But this isn't driving down to the station to 

meet our welcome guests. Welcome is good! I won- 



lo Mr. Loring's Aunts 

der how Edith came out in her interviews. Not very 
well, I imagine. I know those servants. Poor Edith. 
(ENTER Biddy d.l.) Please tell Jim to harness the 
pony at once. 

Biddy (aside). At once, is nt? Shnre you're airy wit 
yer orders, but I'm thinkin' yez'll wait till Jim gets 
good and ready. (Aloud) Yes, mum, at once ut is. 
[Teleplione hell rings) [EXIT Biddy d.l. 

Lucy (goes to teleplione). Hello — yes, this is Lor- 
ings — This is Lucy. What? Oh, Bob, is that really 
you? No, oh Bob, you aren't really going away. Not 
for long, I hope. Oh I'm glad of that. You change 
cars at Plainfield? Oh Bob, I can't. You only have a 
ten-minute wait over? I'd love to see you to say good- 
bye. What train are you coming on ? The three-o 'clock ? 
Talk about tragedy! Bob, I have to leave that station 
at two o'clock. Yes — two aunts of John Loring's. I 
have it. Bob — I '11 delay here — I 'm late now anyway and 
I'll plan so as to reach the station at three o'clock. I'll 
say good-b.ye to you, then hunt up aunties, tell them I 
had a break-down. Thej^'ll have to believe me, but some- 
one is coming — good-bye, then, till three o'clock. Yes, 
good-bye. 

ENTER Biddy d.l. 

Lucy. Biddy, I '11 give you one dollar if you will keep 
Jim frorr. hitching up until half -past two without letting 
Mrs. Loring know anything about it. 

Biddy. I'm on, mum. [EXIT Biddy, d.l. 

ENTER Mrs. Loring, d.r. 

Mrs. L. Why, Lucy, haven't you gone yet? Dear 
me, I do wish you'd hurry up. John said if there was 
one thing his aunts had no patience with it v/as unpunc- 
tuality. 

Lucy. Well, I can't help it, can I ? Jim is still hitch- 



Mr. Loring's Aunts ii 

ing. I just sent Biddy out to hurry him up. I've been 
all ready for ton minutes. 

Mrs. L. Oh, these servants! They get worse and 
worse. I do wish John would come home. Here it is 
two 'clock now. John 's aunts must be at the station and 
you haven't even started yet. Oh, dear 

Lucy. Well, I'll go and see if I can hurry Jim any. 
(Aside) A-hem! [EXIT Lucy d.l. 

Mrs. L. (rings). Oh, dear, I'm so sorry this has hap- 
pened. I wish John were here. What an 

ENTER Biddy d.l. 

Biddy. Yis 'm. 

Mrs. L. I didn't find this room in very good order. 

Biddy. If yez please, mum, I hope I know me place, 
mum, an' that is in the kitchen, mum, an' not in here 
a-clainin' and a-tidyin' up of the rooms afther some, 
an' names I'd scorn to be afther mintionin', mum, but 
it's yersilf an' none bether who knows v/ho I'm manin', 
which same has their own v/urrk to do, an ' faith it ain 't 
mesilf '11 be afther cloin' it for thim afther standin' on 
these two feet all day bakin' an' boilin', an' her too 
nice an' Frenchified to do ought but turn up their noses 
at vittuals what is bether than nor what they're used to 
be havin', as I ought to know, that have wurrked in 
the best places, none better, mum, as me references 

Mrs. L. Biddy, that will do ! Now if you will keep 
quiet long enough I will tell you something. 

Biddy. Fire away, mum. 

Mrs. L. Biddy, you are not respectful. 

Biddy. Respectful! Faith an' respectful is ut, to me 
that has borne what I have borne the day. Yez don't 
be afther wantin' me to say a wurrd in me own defense, 
is ut — well, I shall that same, not being a weak martyr, 
mum, tho' patient it is I am, to be sure; but, ma'am, 
I could talk and to good purpose about things yez don't 
be afther knowin' about that's goin' on in this house 
the day 



12 Mr. Loring's Aunts 

Mrs. L. Biddy, that will do. I just wanted to tell 
you that I'm expecting company and 

Biddy. Company, is ut? Company, is ut? An' me 
with all the wurrk to do an ' no help but what I 'm af ther 
be havin', an' that's Avurse nor naught. Faith, mum, 
an' I'll give yez me notice here an' now, much as I hate 
to be doin' ut — for it's a kind mistress yez are an' a 
generous one, but human flesh an' blood is human flesh 
and blood, an' can only stand so much, which same isn't 
v/hat 's bein ' put on me the da5\ So if yez plaze, mum 

Mrs. L. (wearily). Biddy, will you please be quiet 
and listen to me for a moment ? I wanted to say that if 
you will stay with me until my company, just two old 
aunts of Mr. Loring's, have gone, and not quarrel with 
Marie, I will raise your pay two dollars a month. Does 
that please you, Biddy? 

Biddy. I'll stay, mum, just to plaze ye, mum, an' be 
obligin '. 

Mrs. L. But remember, Biddy, no quarrelling. 

Biddy. As to that, mum, plase to remember as it isn't 
me as does the fightin' an 

Mrs. L. Biddy, that will do. Now tidy up here a bit, 
please, and hurry, for I Avouldn't have Mr. Loring's 
aunts see this house looking so for the world, and re- 
member dinner at six. [EXIT d.r. 

Biddy. Tidy up, is ut ? Tidy up, indade ! Shure an ' 
I ain't a-goin' to be tidyin' up afther no (ENTER d.r. 
Marie carrying duster. Biddy pretends not to see Tier) 
if these here Frinch that's so stylish they can't do their 
own wurrk knew w^hat others thot o' thim, they might 
come down a peg or two. {Goes to table) Faith, an' 
will yez look at the durt of ut. Saints presarve us, it's 
six inches dape. {Writing name on table) Shure, 
yes kin write yur name in ut. Look at that now, 
B-i-d-d-y, Biddy, plain as print on paper it is, an' more 
shame to the housekapin' the day. 

Marie {furiously). Mon Dieu, eet is more zan I can 
bear. To be eensult, eensult, eensult by — by — sooch • 



Mr. Loring's Aunts I3 

Biddy. Careful, Frinchy yez go to callin' me names 
an' there'll be pieces of Frineh all over this place. 

Marie Poof! I scorn you. You know noddings, 
noddings, rien noddings. I no longer viU endure you, I 
geeve notice. No longer vill I serve ze food, he is ter- 
rible, awful. , , . m • » on J 

Biddy An ' will yez look at phat 's talkm '. Shure, an 
it's a penance I've been doin' fer me sins to be liym wit 
yez at all— at all, and faith, the vittuals is bether nor 

yez ever had. . x i u ^^^r 

Marie. Be silent et, Mon Dieu, zat I should see ze day. 

(Becjins to dust) \ td ;^'> 

Biddy {trying to take the duster away). Beggm 
your pardon, Frinchy, the missus towld me ter dust. 

Marie {clinging to duster). Ze dusting she ees my 
office. Thou shalt not . 

Biddy Fly away wit ver offices. The missus towld 
me to dust. {Tliey run around table, eacli clinging to 
duster, and tip over furniture, etc.) 
ENTER Lucy d.l. 

Lucy. Girls! (Marie and Biddy separate) In 
heaven's name, what do you call this? ^ t i.nii 

Biddy. The missus towld me to dust an' dust I shall, 

or give me notice. t, n t /i^ 

Marie. Ze dusting eet ees my office, and so shall I do 

eet or geeve my notice. rn n \ -p^uT. i 

Lucy. This is beyond me. {Calls) Edith I 

ENTER ^I^s. LoRiNG d.r. 

Mrs L. What's the matter? ^. i. +i. 

Lucy Can you make peace here 1 It seems they both 
insist upon dusting this room. It needs it certainly; 
and both are going to leave if they can t do it. 

Mrs L Biddy, as I asked you to dust, please do so. 

Biddy. Very Well, mum. {Aside to Marie) Wan on 

^'""mrI'l." Marie, please go and see if Jim is ^eady^ 
Marie. Oui, Madame. [EXii d.r. 



14 Mr. Loring's Aunts 

Mrs. L. Lucy, it is half-past two. Oh, John will be 
furious when he learns we kept his aunts waiting. 

Lucy (aside). It's Bob I'm interested in, not John. 
(Aloud) Well, I can't help it, can I? 

Mrs. L. I suppose not, but it seems to me 

ENTER Marie d.r. 

Marie. Jim he ees ready. [EXIT d.r. 

Lucy. Yevy yvtII, off at last. I '11 hurry so as not to 
keep them waiting too long. Good-bye, Edith. 

[EXIT D.R. 

Mrs. L. I wouldn't have had it happen for the world. 
It almost seemed to me as if Lucy dawdled on purpose. 
Biddy, go see about dinner, please. I '11 dust here. Re- 
member, dinner at six. Let's have sometliing on time 
to-day. 

Biddy. Yis, mum. [EXIT d.l. 

Mrs. L. (dusting wearily). Oh, I wish John would 
come home. This family is too much for me. 

ENTER Eleanor d.r. 
Eleanor. Mother ! 
Mrs. L. Yes, dear? 

Eleanor. IMarie wants to know about the silver. 
Mrs. L. Well, I '11 come and show her myself. 

[EXIT d.r. 
ENTER Biddy d.l. 
Biddy. One dollar I git from ]\Iiss Lucy fer making 
Jim wait. Twas no job, fer he'd rather wait than 
wurrk any day. An' a two-dollar raise from the missus. 
It's mesilf couldn't be fer laving when it's such a soft 
job I'm havin'. All but that Frinchy, an' it's the joy 
of me life to cook fer her. Shure I'll make an Irish 
stew fer her supper an' see Miss Frinchy rave. Be- 
gorra, 'twill be the fun. Oh! this is the grand day's 
wurrk, Biddy, me lass. But why did Miss Lucy want 
Jim to wait? It looks quare ter me, very quare. 
(Sliakes liead) 

CURTAIN. 



Mr. Loring's Aunts 15 



ACT II. 

Scene. — Sitting-room of tlie Old Hill Sanitarium. Very 
plain furniture. Several chairs placed about tlie 
room. ^Vindoiv up c. Coucli under window; tliere is 
a u'liite sheet under the couch-cover. Doors at l. 
and R. DISCOVERED Mrs. Jones and three or 
four In:,iates seated about rooMy embroidering, etc. 

i\lRS. Jones Ladies, vre are going to have two new 
visitors at our sanitarium ; w^on 't that be nice ? 

First Inmate {sniffs). Nice, huh! 

Second Inmate (tossing head). Indeed! 

Third Inmate {snipping thread of embroidery). 
Crowded already! 

Fourth Inmate {rising and smiling graciously). 
Madam, I wish to say that in the face of the discourtesy 
of my ladies in waiting, which I am very sorry to see and 
which I will surely rebuke, I, as Queen of England, will 
be glad to offer her all the hospitality of which my do- 
main is capable. {Bows again and sits) 

First Inmate {sniffs). Queen of England, huh! 

Second Inmate. Queen of England, indeed ! 

Third Inmate. Crazy! Just plain crazy. 

Fourth Inmate. Will you have the kindness to state 
who it is you are calling crazy? 

Mrs. J. Ladies! Please, please. {Rings hell) I 
know — I am sure — you will all be just as kind and pleas- 
ant as you can and not make any unnecessary trouble 
for any of us. (ENTER Lizzie d.l.) Lizzie, has Jane 
gone ? 

Lizzie. Yas 'm. 

Mrs. J. What, so early? 

Lizzie. Been gone an hour. 

Mrs. J. Why, it's only half-past two. 

Lizzie. Yas'm, but she Avanted to meet the two-o'clock 
train. 



1 6 Mr. Loring's Aunts 

Mrs. J. Why? 

Lizzie. I dunno why. She don't tell me nothing 
about why she Avants to do things. But she was bound 
and determined to meet that two-o'clock train, ana we 
had to fly around some, now let me tell you. I know 
what I think, though. 

Mrs. J. What? 

Lizzie. I dassn't tell. But Jane she got a letter this 
morning an ' it was in her beau 's writing. 

Mrs. J. That will do, Lizzie. You should know by 
this time I don't care to listen to such gossip. It is im- 
material anyway. Now please find Miss Lane and send 
her here. 

Lizzie. Yas'm. [EXIT d.l. 

Mrs. J. Dear me, two more boarders! I'm sure I 
don't know what's to be done with them. It seems to 
me that I have about enough on my hands now. When 
first I opened Old Hill it was with the idea of taking a 
few of the dear old ladies, but I have been besieged with 
applications since my opening last Fall. I hate to re- 
fuse any of them, but these two that are coming to-day 
must positively be the last. 

ENTER Miss Lane d.l. 

Miss Lane. Lizzie said you wanted me. Is anything 
the matter? Where is Jane? I want her. 

Mrs. J. Jane has gone to the station to meet two 
newcomers. 

Miss Lane. Two more? Why, there isn't a vacant 
room in the house. Where on earth will you put them? 

Mrs. J. For the present they must occupy this room. 
It has a couch and is quite warm and comfortable. The 
doctor is coming with them as far as the station. I had 
Jane wear a w^hite carnation so he would be sure and 
recognize her. One can't be too careful, you know. He 
says in his letter that they are sweet old ladies, but given 
to believing they are someone else, so don't pay any 
attention to what they may tell you. 



Mr. Loring's Aunts 17 

Miss Lane. Oh, I shouldn't an^^vay! 

Mrs. J. Take these ladies up to my sitting-room. We 
will have to use that as a general sitting-room for the 
present. 

Miss Lane. But will these new ladies be all right 
there? These windows are not barred, you know. 

Mrs. J. Oh, they'll be all right. The doctor said 
they are not really crazy, only slightly. {Taps foreliead) 
Now, ladies, Miss Lane will show^ you to your nice new 
sitting-room. 

First Inmate, (sniffs). Nice new room, huh? 

Second Inmate. Nice, indeed! 

Third Inmate. Northwest room, I '11 be bound. 

Fourth Inmate {hoiving). My comrades are dis- 
courteous, but never did General Washington flinch at 
hardships. Shoulder arms! (Ladies stand erect) 
Forward, march ! {Tliey all march out stiffly at d.l. fol- 
lowed by Miss Lane) 

Mrs. J. Mrs. Blinks niaj have hallucinations, but she 
certainly is a great comfort. I hope the new ones are 
like her. 

ENTER Jane d.r., followed by Miss Ann and Miss 

Maria 

Mrs. J. What, back so soon? You didn't take long 
for your errand, Jane. (Aside) So these are my new 
visitors. (To Miss Ann and Miss Maria) Good after- 
noon, ladies. Won't you be seated? 

Jane. A word with you, Ma'am. (Jane a7id Mrs. 
Jones witJidraw to corner, Ann afid !Maria sit) 

Ann. 'Pon my word, Sister Maria, Niece Edith is 
cordial. 

Maria. Nothing if not so, Sister Ann. 

Ann. I must say. Sister Maria, that this is hardly the 
welcome I expected or hoped for. 

Maria. You are right, as always, Sister Ann. (Tliey 
sit up very straight) 



l8 Mr. Loring's Aunts 

Jane {to Mrs. J.) Yes, ma'am, they came on the 
two-o'clock train instead of the three-o'clock, so it's 
lucky I went early. The doctor didn't get off the train 
except to help them off. He pointed to me and they 
came straight over. But, ma'am, I don't see how he 
dared trust them, for they're as crazy as a pair of luna- 
tics. They called me Mary and said what a pretty girl I 
am — just what their sister-in-law's nephew, or nephew's 
sister-in-law, ought to be. They think they're some 
grand relations, I guess, by their questions about John 
and Edith and Biddy. They most drove me distracted 
trying to answer them. I 'm glad to get them home. 

Mrs. J. Are you sure they're the right ones? 

Jane. Sure. Two old ladies and a doctor-looking 
man. And he looked right at the white carnation and 
then pointed to me. An' they were the only ones. 

Mrs. J. It must be all right, eJane. The doctor said 
they were given to hallucinations. But it is strange they 
should come on the two-o'clock train when the letter said 
distinctly the three-o'clock train. Well, the}^ are here, 
anyway. You may go. 

Jane. Yes, ma'am. [EXIT d.l. 

Mrs. J. {to Aunts). Pardon my seeming rudeness, 
but my maid wished to speak to me. Won't you lay 
off your wraps? I hope you had a pleasant journey. 
Put your things on the couch and Jane will take care 
of them. 

Ann (stiffly). Thank you, Edith, I will. 

Maria [more stiffly). Thank you, Edith, so will I. 

Mrs. J. (aside). So I am Edith, am I ? Well, I might 
as well humor them. (Aloud) Do make yourselves com- 
fortable. And now. Miss Elite — which is IMiss Elite? 

Ann. Pardon mo, madam, but my name is Ann. 

Maria. Pardon me, madam, but my name is Maria. 

Mrs. J. (aside). Mercy, they are much worse than 
I expected they would be. It is going to be hard work 
to take care of them. (Aloud) I beg your pardon, 
ladies, I must have mistaken your names. I will try 



Mr. Loring's Aunts ig 

to remember them in the future. {Aside) Yes, I will 
humor them. It's the best way. 

Ann (aside to Maria). Is Edith crazy? I certainly 
thought Mary was queer, but this woman ! Really, Maria, 
I don 't know what to think ! 

Maria {to Ann). Let me talk to her. {Aloud) And 
now, Edith, since we have had a long journey and are 
weary, will you show us to our rooms ? 

Mrs. J. I am very sorry, ladies, but all my rooms 
are occupied and this will have to be your apartment 
for the present. 

Ann and Maria {togetlier). This! 

Ann. Did not Nephew John tell you we were com- 
ing? I thought we let him know in plenty of time for 
you to get ready for us. We are each used to having a 
separate room with a southern exposure. 

Mrs. J. But really, ladies, you must be reasonable. 
My other rooms are ail occupied and this, as you see, has 
a southern exposure. {Aside) Crazy! Crazy! Crazy! I 
don't know what I shall do v/ith them. {Shaking liead) 

Maria {to Ann). She talks like a lodging-house 
keeper. {Aloud) Is Nephew John having a house- 

partv? Most inconsiderate of him, I call it, when 

(ENTER Miss Lane d.l.) Mercy, here comes a person 
in a nurse's uniform. Pray, Edith, who is sick? Why 
didn't vou let us know? (Maria and Ann talk aside) 

Mrs. J. {aside to Miss Lane). You talk to them, will 
you? They are getting beyond me. 

Miss Lane. But why do you always humor their de- 
lusions ? 

Mrs. J. Well, that has always been one of my meth- 
ods, and perhaps they do not know they are in a sani- 
tarium, poor things. Do not tell them. We can spare 
them that much, at least. [EXIT d.l. 

Miss Lane. Nov/, ladies 

Maria. This repetition of "Now, ladies," is getting 
unbearable. Young woman, who are you? And whpt 
are you doing in this house? If anyone here is ill I de- 



20 Mr. Loring's Aunts 

mand to be told. It is my right to be told. Where is 
my nephew, John ? I wish to speak to him at once. 

Ann. Sister Maria, keep calm. But, young woman, 
my sister's anger is righteous. We came here prepared 
to be friendly with our nephew, to take him and his wife 
into our lonely old hearts, to remember them in our will. 
We are received w^ith coldness. We are treated like 
strangers. We are even denied proper apartments. 
Woman, explain. (Wipes eyes.) 

Miss Lane (sootJimgly) . There, there, nobody meant 
to hurt your feelings. We are busy here and over- 
crowded and cannot give each (Aside) Heavens! 

what am I saying? Mrs. Jones will be furious if I tell 
them where they are. (Aloud) Everything will be made 
right, I assure you. And I must beg of you not to excite 
yourselves. It will be bad for you. It Avill make you 
worse. 

Maria. Sister Anne, the cool impudence of this person 
is getting beyond endurance. We will leave at once. 

Ann. At once. Sister Maria. (TJiey pick up tlieir 
tilings, put on wraps and sta^'t for d.r.) 

Mis^ LAisiE (barring ivay) . Now look here. There's no 
use of your being so silly. You might as well be quiet 
and make the best of it. You can't leave and it's no 
use for you to try. (Bell rnngs) Mrs. Jones wants me, 
so I will leave you, but after your conduct I shall be 
obliged to lock you in. [EXIT d.r. 

Maria. Ann ! 

Ann. Maria ! 

Maria (tries door). Locked! 

Ann (tries door). So it is. Sister Maria. (Goes to 
couch and sinks down, weeping) Sister Maria, they are 
all craz3^ What shall we do ? 

Maria (sitting down beside lier). Yes, Sister Ann, 
they are all crazy. Oh, to think that we should be so 
treated. 

Ann. Oh, Sister Maria, it is horrible. (Tliey put 
tlieir arms around eacli other and cry) 



Mr. Loring's Aunts «i 



'to 



ENTER Lizzie d.l. 

Lizzie. Gee! Look at 'em. (Taps forehead) No- 
body home, all right. Say, ladies 

Maria {jumpirifj up). If another person dares to ad- 
dress us as "ladies" during our sojourn here, there will 
be violence done. 

Lizzie (aside). These are the woist we've had in some 
time. (Aloud) Well, but ain't you? 

Maria. What ? 

Lizzie. Ladies ? 

Maria. I trust we are. Sister Ann, are we not? 

Ann. I have always been led to believe we were, 
Sister Maria. 

Lizzie. Then why don't you want to be called ladies, 
wot? 

Ann (aside). This girl seems rational, at least ra- 
tional as compared with the others. They are none of 
them really rational in this house. Now, Sister Maria, 
let us question her and perhaps we can learn the reason 
for the coolness of our reception. 

Maria. That, Sister Ann, is a most sensible idea. I 
Avill speak at once. (Aloud, abruptly) Girl! 

Lizzie (startled). Yas'm. 

Maria. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. 

Lizzie. Aw, that's all right. I don't care. But you 
see, Mrs. Jones always 

Ann. Who ? 

Lizzie. Why, Mrs. Jones. 

Ann. And who, pray tell, is Mrs. Jones? 

Lizzie. The lady wot met you when you come in 
here. 

Maria. Sister Ann, we must solve this mystery. 

Ann. Yes, Sister Maria, we must. 

Maria (taking out purse). Girl, do you want to earn 
five dollars? 

Lizzie. Do I ? Do I ? You just try me and see. 

Maria. You shall have this five-dollar bill if you will 
tell us where we are and why. 



22 Mr. Loring's Aunts 

Lizzie (aside). I'm beginning to think there's some- 
thing wrong here. They don't give five-dollar bills to 
the crazy ones to carry around. [Aloud) Well, I should 
think by this time you'd know you were at Old Hill. 

Ann a7id Maria {together). Where? 

Ann. Girl, explain. 

Lizzie. Why, Old Hill Sanitarium, what Mrs. Jones 
keeps for old ladies what is. {Taps forehead) Didn't 
you know? Maybe I hadn't ought to a told you, but I 
did anyway. Now where 's my five dollars? (Maria 
gives Iter hill) Thanks. Say, I don't believe youse are 
crazy, and if youse want anything youse kin just call 
on me. See? Now I gotta go. {To Ann) But say, 
where 'd you think you were, lady? 

Ann. Why, at my nephew's, John Loring's, house. 
Is there such a person in the neighborhood ? 

Lizzie {sinks on coucli, laugliing). Gee, this is rich. 
They've got the wrong ones. Say, iMr. Loring lives 
down the hill about half a mile. {Aside) But I won't 
tell them too much. I might get into trouble. (Aloud) 
But Jane was told to bring youse here. Well, I gotta 
go. (Laugliing) [EXIT, d.l. 

Maria. Sister Ann ! 

Ann. Sister Maria! 

Maria. A sanitarium. Sister Ann, this is a plot to 
get our money. We must frustrate it. We must es- 
cape. 

Ann. Sister Maria, we must. 

Maria. To think that a nephew of ours would go to 
such lengths just to get our money. 

Ann. Isn't it terrible? But he shan't. 

Maria. No, Sister Ann, he shall not. 

Ann. Not one penny. Sister Maria. 

Maria. No, Sister Ann, not one penny. 

Ann (tries the door). We cannot escape by this 
means. The girl has locked us in. 

Maria (tries the door). Do you suppose we could 
break the lock, Sister Ann? (Going hack to couch, ex- 
amining cover f etc.) 



Mr. Loring's Aunts 23 

Ann. They would hear us, Sister Maria. 

Maria (solemnly). There is a sheet on this couch 
under the cover. 

Ann. Yes, Sister Maria. 

Maria {examining windoiv). Sister Ann, this window 
is not barred. 

Ann. No, Sister Maria. 

Maria. Sister Ann, do you remember that movino^ 
picture performance in Plainfield Niece Lothrop insisted 
upon our attending? 

Ann. I do. Sister Maria, and bitterly regret the wil- 
ful waste of time and money. 

Maria. I did too, but now. Sister Ann, do j^ou re- 
member how the prisoner tore his sheet into strips and 
knotting them together made a ladder by Avhich he 
escaped through the window? 

Ann. (agliast). Sister Maria, would you dare? 

Maria. Sister Ann, in my present state of mind I 
dare anything. Let us get to work. {Tliey tear the 
sheet into strips and knot them together) 

Ann. Oh, Sister Maria. 

Maria. Well, Sister Ann? 

Ann. Do you dare trust yourself to do that? 

Maria. Sister Ann, when one is desperate, but hark ! 
someone is coming. We must hide this or it will be 
taken from us. (They smooth couch-cover. Maria puts 
rope c. and sits on it) 

ENTER Mrs. Jones d.l. 

Mrs. J. And now, ladies 

Ann. Ladies again ! 

Mrs. J. What did you say? 

Ann. Nothing, Mrs. Jones. 

Mrs. J. (aside). Praise Heaven! They have come to 
their senses, at last. I only hope they will remain 
rational until I get them settled. (Aloud) And, now, 
ladies 



24 Mr, Loring's Aunts 

Maria. Mrs. Jones, will yon have tho kindness to 
address us in some other manner than that parrot-like 
repetition of, ''Now, ladies"? If we must endure the 
horrible wrong that is being done us by one whom we 
have always loved and trusted, pray do not make it 
worse by any such constant and irritating repetition as 
your, ''Now, ladies." Call us Miss Flite or Night or 
Fright or whatever else may suit your fancy or fall in 
with your villainous schemes, anj^thing l3ut "Now, 
ladies. ' ' 

Mrs. J. {in despair). They are off on a new tangent. 
They are violently insane! I will not keep them. I 
will not. They are beyond me. {Aloud, soothingly) 
And now, la — I beg j^our pardon. Miss Flite and Miss 
Lite. Will you kindly follow me 1 I should like to have 
you meet the rest of our guests. 

Maria {aside). And let her discover our only means 
of escape, never! {Aloiid) Pardon me. Madam, but I 
much prefer to remain here. Ann, you may go if you 
wish. 

Ann. Sister Maria, I will never desert you. (Ann 
and Maria sit upon coucli, motionless, with folded hands 
and stare straight ahead) 

Mrs. J. {aside). Oh, whatever shall I do with them? 
Firm as Gibraltar! I shall have to try coaxing them. 
I must get them upstairs some way. Being alone will 
only make them w^orse. {Aloud) Now, ladies 

Maria {jumping up in anger). Madam, our names 
are not "Now, ladies." (Ann moves quickly and sits 
on rope) 

Mrs. J. I 'm sure I beg your pardon, but I must insist 
upon your following me. The routine of this establish- 
ment cannot be interrupted in this way for every whim 
of our guests. {Aside) Sweet old ladies, indeed! I'd 
like to have that doctor here for about ten minutes. 

Ann. Sister Maria, sit down. Now, Madam, we are 
sitting on this couch, do you comprehend? 

Mrs. J. I certainly do. 



Mr. Loring's Aunts 25 

Maria. And upon this couch we shall remain until 
we wish to move. An attempt upon your part to move 
us will end badly for you. Now leave us, I beg of you, 
as we are very tired. The events of this afternoon have 
been very wearing, and I promise you that this is the 
last trouble we will give you. 

Mrs. J. (aside). I'll give in to them just once more. 
Maybe they'll keep that promise if I leave them alone. 

{Aloud) Very well, la I beg your pardon, you are 

not ladies. I will leave you for a little while, relynig 
on your promise not to give me any more trouble. 

Maria. I assure you. Madam, we will trouble you 
very little after this, if you v/ill leave us. 

Ann. Have the goodness to go at once. Madam ; but 
before you go, I must warn you that your part in this 
horrible comspiracy will not be overlooked when this af- 
fair is brought to book. 

Mrs. J. {aside). Heaven defend us. Now it's con- 
spiracies. I will call Miss Lane at once ! And to think 
he called them dear old ladies. Dear old ladies, in- 
deed! [EXITd.l. 

Maria. And now that the coast is clear we can plan 
our escape from this terrible place. 

Ann. Yes, Sister Maria, we will escape and punish 
Nephew John to the full extent of the law. {Both, go 
towards window and prepare to climb out) 
QUICK CURTAIN 



ACT III. 

Scene. — Same as Act I. The room is in excellent order; 
fresli flowers in vases, etc. 

ENTER Biddy, d.l. 

Biddy. So Frinchy had to go to work and clanc up, 
eh ? Shure, an ' I may not be so stylish as her, nor have 
the airy way of wavin' me hands, (Imiiates Marie's 
gestures) but me kitchen is clane an' me cookin' good. 
{Picks up vase and wipes it witli corner of apron to sec 
if it is dusty) 

ENTER Marie, d.r. 

Marie {staiis to sing, tlien breaks off). How can I 
sing veil I am hongrie, oui, hongrie. Ze food I cannot 
eet heem. Hee's not feet, he ees terrible — and I must 
vork so veree hard, for my vork I must do heem and ze 
vork of zat Biddee also. My, I shall grow seek and die, 
and zat Biddee shall be my murderer. 

Biddy. AVell, an' is that so? An' phwat's afther 
bein' the matther with the vittials, may I ask? 

Marie. Oh, she ees here, zat Biddee. What does she 
here ven ze place for she is in ze kitchen. Poof, I cannot 
breathe ze same air as she. I will went. [EXIT d.r. 

BiDDY\ Shure, Frinchy, ye 're the smart wan wit yer 
tongue, but the supper yez'll be afther gettin' the night 
will make ye rue the day yez were borrnc. No, Frinchy 
me swate w^an, yez aren't wise, or yez'd niver sass the 
cook, no, yez'd niver sass the cook. 

ENTER Mrs. Loring, d.r. 

Mrs. L. Biddy, have you seen any signs of Lucy? 
Biddy. No, mum. 

26 



Mr. Loring's Aunts 27 

Mrs. L. Hasn't she got back? 

Biddy. Faith, mum, d'yez think I Ve been secratin' of 
thim somewhere ? 

Mrs. L. No, Biddy, of course not, but I am getting 
so worried. I wouldn't know what to do if anything 
happened to Mr. Loring's aunts. I should never dare 
face Mr. Loring. Oh, Biddy, do you go look down the 
road and see if they are coming. 

Biddy. Yis, mum. [EXIT d.l. 

Mrs. L. I do hope they like their rooms. Old ladies 
are so hard to please, and John said his aunts were very 
particular. I hope I can get along well with them. 
John says they are strong-minded. {Nervously straiglit- 
ens furniture) This is such an outlandish household. 
I'm afraid they will think we're heathens. I shall have 
to keep Biddy and Marie apart all I can. But I do wish 
John were here. 

ENTER Lucy d.r., followed hy Miss Flite and Miss 

Lite. 

Lucy. Here we are, Edith. Aunties, let me intro- 
duce your new niece. Niece, allow me to present Mr. 
Loring 's aunts. There, now, I think you are acquainted. 

Mrs. L. Oh, you don't know how glad I am to see you. 
Aunt Ann — which of you is Aunt Ann? {Aside to 
Lucy) Why didn't you tell me which was which? 

Lucy. Don't know myself. I've been trying to find 
out all the way home. You can try your luck at it. 

Mrs. L. {aloud). Did Lucy keep you waiting along? 
I was afraid she would, she started from here so late. 

Miss Flite. No, indeed, Mrs. Jones 

Mrs. L. What? {Aside to Lucy) What does she 
mean ? 

Lucy. Don't ask me what they mean by anything — I 
can't make them out. Maybe it's because they're so 
strong-minded. 

Mrs. L. {to Miss Lite). Won't you be seated? You 
must be tired after your journey. (Miss Flite and Miss 
Lite sit on coucli. Miss Lite makes signs on Iter fingers) 



2S Mr. Loring's Aunts 

Lucy. She's deaf and dumb, Edith. 

Miss Flite. No, she ain't. 

Lucy and Mrs. L. What ! 

Miss Flite. I say she ain 't deaf and dumb. 

Mrs. L. Why doesn 't she say something, then ? Why 
does she pretend to be deaf and dumb ? What does this 
all mean? (Aside) Oh, I wish John were here! 

Lucy. I thought she was deaf and dumb. 

Miss Flite. So does she. 

Lucy. So does she what ? 

Miss Flite. Think she 's deaf and dumb. 

Mrs. L. (to Lucy). Heaven defend us! Are they 
crazy, or am I? 

Lucy. I'm beginning to think I am, if they are not. 
She insists upon calling me Jane, says she knows my 
cousin. She wanted to know if the matron was kind — 
oh, (Aside) I can't begin to tell you the crazy things 
she said to me coming up from the station. 

Mrs. L. (aside). Well, I Avish I could find out which 
is which. If John were here he could talk to them. I 
wish he'd come home. (Aloud) Won't you let me 
show you to your rooms? Perhaps the journey was a 
little too wearing. It is a long trip, with the drive up 
from the station and all. After a good night's rest 
things will look clearer to you, I hope. Come. 

[EXIT Mrs. Loring, Miss Flite and Miss Lite d.r. 

Lucy (sits down and fans herself). Whew! the trip 
'up from the station was too much for me. Strong- 
minded, John called his aunts, did he? Well, if they 
are strong-minded, praise Heaven I'm weak-minded. I 
can't understand it all. They are so vej'ij queer. Oh, 
well, they aren't my aunts. I saw Bob off anyway. I 
think Providence is watching over us that aunties should 
come on the three-o'clock train instead of the two-o'clock. 
John would have been wild if I had kept them waiting 
& whole hour. As it was, ever5i:hing went off beauti- 



Mr. Loring's Aunts 29 

fully and nobody need ever know. But wouldn't Aunt 
Jane be furious if she kneAV I'd seen Bob? I'll go up 
and write a letter to the dear boy so he'll receive it as 
soon as he reaches Boston. It may keep him from being 
too lonesome. Oh, but wouldn't Aunt Jane be wild if 
she knew! [EXIT d.r. 

ENTER Marie and Biddy, d.l. 

Marie. Biddee, you shall not cook ze Irish stew for 
my supper. I detest heem. I abominate heem. I de- 
spise heem. I will not eat heem. He ees terrible, awful ! 
He ees 

Biddy. Well, yez are welcome to go without supper if 
that's the way yez feel about it, fer I've only cooked 
just enough of an^1:hing ilse fer the missus and I ain't 
goin' to rob the missus jest to plase you, Frinchy. Fer 
me part there's nawthin' in the whole wide world that 
so warms me heart and makes me whowl bein ' feel happy 
like a good hot Irish stew wit the praties and the onions 
an' the little bits of beef a-floatin' in the broth of ut. 
An' if it ain't good enough fer the loikes av yez, yez kin 
go hongry. Shure an' maybe fastin' '11 cure the dis- 
position of yez. Put that in yez poipe an' shmoke it. 
See! 

ENTER Miss Flite and Miss Lite d.r. 

Marie. Ah, look, Biddee. Here come ze aunts. Zey 
must be veree riche to be so much account made of. I 
wish I was riche, meaa, I should not then be hongree an' 
eat ze Irish stew. (!^L\rie and Biddy step l. almost to 
wings) 

Miss Flite. Now, Susan, what on earth possessed you 
to go and have one of your tantrums just when we're 
coming into a strange place? You don't know much, 
you poor thing, but you really ought to know better than 
that. Whatever am I going to do with you? 

Miss Lite. You, Grace, you? Pray what have you 



30 Mr. Loring*s Aunts 

got to talk about? What vrill the lady say when she 
sees you've gone and taken all the window curtains in 
your room down and hid them under the bed? 

Miss Flite. I didn't. 

Miss Lite. You did. 

Miss Flite. I say I didn't. 

Miss Lite. I say you did. 

Miss Flite. Well, I want to see the sun in the morn- 
ing. You know I must see the sun or I shall fade like 
a fragile floweret. {Pretends to fall hacl'ward) 

Miss Lite. You, a fragile floweret! I should think 
you would fade to think how foolish you can act. 

Biddy. Begorra, that Susy one is the mane crather. 
She's got a tongue loike pepper. 

Marie. Non, she has ze cause. She but defends her- 
self. Eet was ze other who began eet — ze quarrel. 

Biddy. I say the Susy wan is mane. 

Marie. I say she ees not. Eet ees ze other. 

Miss Lite. Oh, two other guests. I did not see you. 
Good afternoon, ladies. 

Marie. So glad to greet you. Shall I call ze 
Madam? 

Miss Flite. Yes, please do. (Marie loolxs at Iter, 
slirugs lier slioulders and turns to Miss Lite) 

Marie. Anything I can do for ze madame, I shall do 
so gladly. 

Biddy. Well, talk about that impudence. {To Miss 
Flite) Don't yez be afther noticing the crather. She 
knows nothing anyway. I'll stand up fer yez, an' yez 
are lucky, fer I'm the cook. Shure it's wise yez are to 
stand in wit the cook, an' lucky as them that doesn't as 
found out to their sorrer, the day an' in this very house 
— wit the Irish stew a cookin ' 

Marie. Vairee clevair, ees thees Biddy, but (Slirugs 
slioulders) remembair, I on ze table wait and eet ees 
well to be on ze, what she call it, good side? Oui, good 
side, I must that word remembair, of ze waitress, n 'est — 
cepas? 



Mr. Loring's Aunts 31 

Miss Lite. Well, Grace, I am fortunate to find some- 
one at last who Avill stand up for me against your odious 
persecutions, even if it is only a menial. 

Biddy (aside), Manial, is ut? Begorra, it's lier 
that's the mane one to be calling names. Shure an' 
afther this it's lucky she'll be to be gettin' anything to 
ate at arl, at arl. 

Miss Flite. Odious persecutions indeed! I'll show 
you what odious persecutions can be. (Makes a dive at 
lier, hut is restrained hy Biddy) 

Biddy. Whist, now don't you be afther getting your- 
self in hot water. The ither wan isn 't wurth ut. 

Marie. Mamselle, hear that. Will you stand eet — 
will you be quiet and hear such names called by that 

Biddy? I will defend you, so (Starts for Biddy 

and tips over vase) 

Biddy. Whist, now look at what ye've done. It's me 
for the kitchen. 
[EXIT D.L. Marie takes dust-clotli and wipes up carpet. 

Miss Flite. That was your fault. 

Miss Lite. It was not. It was yours. 

Miss Flite. I say it was yours. 

Mrs. L. (outside). Marie, send the Misses Loring 
here, please. 

Marie. Ladies, you had better — w^hat is eet zat zat 
Biddee say? — beat eet! Oui, beat eet. Oh, I remembair 
ze word this time. 

ENTER Mrs. Loring d.l. 

Miss Lite. I might have known you'd do something 
like that, Grace. 

[EXIT D.R., Miss Flite and Miss Lite, quarrelling. 

Mrs. L. (looking after tliem). She doesn't sound very 
deaf and dumb. I 'm sure I don 't know what to make of 
them. I wish John were here. Marie, what are yon 
doing ? 

Marie (aside). Cannot ze madame see? I em crank- 



33 Mr. Loring's Aunts 

ing ze automobile. Ah, Madame, the cat she knock over 
ze vase. I clean him up, moi. Zit is one vairee bad 
cat. I think her name Biddee. 

Mrs. L. {laugliing) . What a pair you are. You sim- 
ply cannot help quarrelling, can you? Where is Elea- 
nor? I wish to see her. 

Marie. I shall go bring her. [EXIT d.r. 

ENTER Lucy d.r. 

Lucy. Oh, Edith — oh, dear me! 

Mrs. L. For mercy's sake, Lucy, what awful thing 
has happened now? 

Lucy. Are Mr. Loring's aunts crazy? 

Mrs. L. Not that I know of. Why?' 

Lucy. Well, that other one, the deaf and dumb one, 
insists that it is winter, and here it is the middle of July. 
I want to take them out driving and she has on a fur 
coat and she will wear it in spite of all I can do or say. 

ENTER Eleanor d.l. 

Mrs. L. Well, let her wear it if she Avants to. We 
mustn't offend them, you know. John said they were 
quite sensitive. 

ENTER Miss Elite and Miss Lite d.r. Miss Lite Tias 
coat and carries muff. 

Mrs. L. {aside). They must be crazy. Well, I shan't 
say anything to them. I wish John were here. (Aloud) 
Eleanor, these are your aunties. 

Eleanor (aside). What's she got a fur coat on for, 
Mamma ? 

Mrs. L. Sh! Don't say anything, dear. You might 
hurt her feelings, just pretend you don't see it. 

Eleanor (aside). I think she's funny anyway. 
(Aloud) How do you do. Aunt Ann and Aunt Maria? 

Miss Elite. Is this your little girl, Mrs. Jones? 

Eleanor (aside). Why, how funny! Mrs. Jones is 



Mr. Loring's Aunts 33 

the lady over at Old Hill. I wonder why she calls 
Mamma that. 

Mrs. L. Yes, indeed, this is my daughter, Eleanor, 
but my name is Edith. 

Miss Elite (aside). They aren't very formal here, 
are they? I wonder if she isn't an inmate, too. She 
acts queer to me. 

Mrs. L. Is Lucy going to take you driving? I'm 
sure you will enjoy a drive this beautiful day. 

Miss Elite {to Mrs. L.). Shh! She thinks it's win- 
ter. She'll be having a tantrum in a minute if you 
bother her. 

Lucy. Oh, good night! I can't stand this much 
longer. Come, Aunties. Jim must be waiting. I hope 
you'll manage to keep warm, anyway — winter or sum- 
mer. [EXIT D.R. Miss Elite and Miss Lite 

Mrs. L. Well, I must say 

Eleanor. Mamma ! 

Mrs. L. Yes, dear? 

Eleanor. Why did they call you Mrs. Jones? 

Mrs. L. I 'm sure I don 't know. 

Eleanor. But, Mamma 

Mrs. L. Never mind, Eleanor. Don't puzzle your 
brain about it. Your father will be home in a day or 
two and he Avill straighten things out. Don't you want 
to look at this pretty new book for a little while ? I wish 
to lie down for a few minutes and I would like to have 
you here when they return. 

Eleanor. I suppose so, but Mamma 

Mrs. L. You can tell me all about it by and by. Now 
read your book and don't disturb me on any account, 
because I am very tired. [EXIT d.r. 

Eleanor. Well, I can't help it if she won't let me tell 
her, but those aren't my aunties. I've seen my aunties 
once and I know they weren't like these old ladies. 
Well, I don't see what I can do about it, but when Papa 
sees them and it all comes out that they're someone else 
— they'll blame me for not telling that I knew Aunt 



36 Mr. Loring's Aunts 

you get very many more up here I'm going back to 
Springfield, Aunt Jane or no Aunt Jane. 

ENTER D.R., Eleanor, Miss Ann and Miss Maria. 

Eleanor. Mamma, let me introduce to you Aunt Ann 
Loring and Aunt Maria Loring. 

Mrs. L. and Lucy. What? 

Mrs. L. Child, what does -this mean? 

Ann. It means, Mrs. Loring, that we have escaped 
from the institution where you and my nephew so wick- 
edly had us placed, and, meeting your daughter up the 
road, accepted her invitation to ride. We come here 
for the purpose of telling you that not one cent of our 
money shall ever be yours. Woman, your plot has 
failed. I bid you good-day. 

Lucy. Please wait a minute. I entreat you, do not 
go. Eleanor, what does this all mean? 

Eleanor. Well, Aunt Lucy, you got the wrong ladies 
at the station. You arrived there too late, and Aunt 
Ann and Maria were taken off to the sanitarium by their 
girl, who was at the station to meet these ladies. {Points 
to Miss Elite and Miss Lite) You brought these ladies 
here thinking they were Papa's aunts. I tried to tell 
Mamma they were no relations, but she wouldn't listen. 
Lizzie at the Sanitarium said she was going to let Aunt 
Ann and Aunt Maria out, and I went and met them. 
That's all. 

Mrs. L. Lucy, what have you done? This is dread- 
ful! {To Miss Ann and Miss Maria) Will you ever 
forgive us? I don't know what to say or how to — we — 
oh, how can I explain? What will John say? {Cities) 

Maria. I think I'm beginning to see things clearly. 
We all took things too much for granted. But you {to 
Lucy) could not have been on time to meet us. Yoic 
were unpunctual. 

Lucy. I know it was all my fault. You see, it was 
like this: I am engaged, and my Aunt Jane does not 



Mr. Loring's Aunts 37 

approve, so she sent me down here. Well, Bob, my 
fiancee, was going to change cars at Plainfield at three 
o'clock. He's going away and I simply had to see him to 
say good-bye. I put off starting for the station as long 
as I could and when I got there you were gone and these 
ladies got off the train. They answered the description 
I had of you. I thought it was all right and brought 
them along. Won't you forgive Edith, please? It was 
my fault, not hers. She's been lying awake nights to 
think of ways to please you. And John— think what 
John would say if he came home and found you'd gone 
away angry and learned the reason why. 

Ann. Sister Maria, shall we go or shall we stay? 

Maria. Let us stay, Sister Ann, for you must admit 
it has all been very exciting and there's little enough 
excitement in our lives nowadays. But at the sani- 
tarium they will be worrying. 

Mrs. L. {rings hell). Then you forgive us? I amso 
glad! Lucy, you must take the cart at once and drive 
Miss — — ■ 

Miss Flite:. Flite. 

Mrs. L. Miss Flite and Miss 

Miss Lite. Lite. 

Mr. L. Miss Flite and Miss Lite overdo Old Hill and 
explain to Mrs. Jones how the mistake occurred. 

ENTER Marie d.l. 

Lucy. I 'd rather be hung, but I suppose I must do it. 

Come, ladies. 

[EXIT D.R., Lucy, Miss Flite andMms. Lite 

Mrs. L. (to Marie). Show these ladies to their apart- 
ments, Marie. Or no, Eleanor and I wall go with you, 
Aunt Ann and Aunt Maria. Marie, you may tell Biddy 
to serve tea at once. 

[EXIT D.R., Mrs. L., Eleanor, Ann and Maria. 

Marie {at d.l.) . Biddee ! Biddee ! 



38 Mr. Loring's Aunts 

ENTER Biddy d.l. 

Biddy. What now, Frinehy? 

Marie. Eef you could listen at ze door as I came in, 
you should knoAv vat ze mattair ees. Miss Lucy, she 
bring ze crazy ladies here. Zey are not ze aunts, no. 
Ze aunts zey go to ze crazy ladies' house on ze hill. Oh, 
Biddee, how she ees funny, thees joke. (Laiiglis) 

Biddy. Thim other wans wuz crazy, say you? Thim 
wans we thought wuz the aunts ? 

Marie. Oui, zey were ze — what you call heem — nutty 
dames — oui ! 

Biddy. Mary, by the saints, weVe been foightin' and 
actin' jest loike thim crazy wans. Shure, Mary, it's 
loonies we are too. Yez kin foight afther this day if yez 
will, but it'll be with yersilf. I'll not fight with yez 
longer. They ^vuz crazy, say you? No crazier nor us. 

Marie. An' not ze Irish stew for eat any more, 
Biddee ! 

Biddy. Not onless yez axes me fer ut. Yez kin eat 
yer salads in peace fer all of me. Crazy, begorra, 
crazy! An' us a fighting just like em. Oh, it's ashamed 
of mesilf I am ! So here 's me hand on ut. 

Marie. I, too, will geeve my hand. Vce must not be 
lak them, no. Biddee, we vill be friends, yes? I will 
be on ze, what you call, ze good side of ze cook, and at 
last I shall be feed. 

CURTAIN. 



FEMALE CHARACTERS 



PEREGRINATIONS OF POLLY 

Comedietta in One Act. Three t'emales 
By Helen P. Kane 
One plain interior scene. Polly and Margaret, bachelor maids^ 
being invited to attend a musicale, determine to exchange escorts. The 
result may not have been such as was intended, but certainly was one 
to have been expected. The dialogue throuarhout is brilliant and 
snappy, the action quick, thus ensuring a success for this bright 
sketch. Plays forty-five minutes. 

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~ THE RAINBOW KIMONA ' 

Comedy in Two Acts. Nine Females 

By Eleanor Maud C'kane 

One Interior scene. The Rainbow Kimona is a club composed of 

seven of the Senior Class, each member wearing a kimona representing 

one of the colors of the rainbow. In a small apartment an entertain^ 

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The whole thing is a medley of the most amusing kind. Plays one 

»and a half hours. 

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OUTWITTED ™^ 

Society Sketch in One Act. Three Females 
One Interior scene. Two of the girls twit each other about the 
attentions of a handsome young army officer at a ball the night 
previous, each covertly aiming to outwit the other. It transpires later 
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PRICE 15 CENTS 

THE PUTURE LADY HOLLAND 

Comedy in Three Acts. Four Females 
By Helen P. Kane 
One Interior scene. The dowager Ladv Holland has arranged that 
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Flays one and a half hours. 

PRICE 25 CENTS 

' TOM'S ARRIVAL 

Play in One Act. Three Females 
One interior scene. Three maiden ladies, learning by wire that 
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surprising arrival of Tom creates consternation in the little household 
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Plays twenty-five minutes. 

PRICE 15 CENTS 

THE CONSPIRATORS ^ 

Comedy in Tivo Acts. Twelve Females 
By Evelyn Simms 
One Interior scene. A clever little comedy showing how the Senior 
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Plays about forty minutes. ^„„.r,« 

PRICE 15 CENTS 



FEMALE CHARACTERS 



BECEPTION DAY AT THE SETTLEMENT HOUSE 

An ontertainmentin 1 act, by Agnes C. Ruggeri. Can be played by 12 or 
16 female characters. 1 interior scene, simple or elaborate, as desired. 
Time, if played straight, 1 hour, or can be lengthened if specialties are 
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PRICE 25 CENTS 

A DAY AND A NIGHT 

A comedy in 2 acts, by Agnes C. RuggerL 1 female characters. 1 interior 
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ROSEMARY 

A play In 4 acts, by Arolyn Caverly Cutting. 14 female characters. 1 
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PRICE 25 CENTS 

A CONVERTED SUFFRAGIST 

A play In 1 act, by Katharine Kavanaugh. 3 female characters. 1 easy 
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climax. 



PRICE 15 CENTS 



THE WHITE DOVE OF ONEIDA 

A romantic drama in 2 acts and an after scene, by Helen P. Kane. 4 
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PRICE 15 CENTS 

A LESSON IN ELEGANCE 

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